At my house, taking out the trash isn't always the smoothest operation. The Hubs is on top of a lot of things, but occasionally the trash falls through the cracks. So this morning I asked him to please take out Newbie's diaper pail trash before the reek broke the smell barrier and the entire upstairs vaporized before our very eyes.
And so he did.
Kind of.
I'll let the email exchange we had following his departure this morning do the rest of the talking:
Me to the Hubs:
"To Whom it may concern:
I think what we have here is a "failure to communicate".
You see, I was under the impression that "taking out the trash" meant taking it outside and putting it in the city garbage can. I was unaware that the definition of "taking out the trash" can be found in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary as the following:
taking out the trash: verb: to deposit a bag of trash in the middle of the mudroom
My bad!
And one more thing before you go, is it alright if we let the spider monkeys trim the lollipop trees this afternoon? It's normal protocol to run these things by the Mayor of Crazy Town before we proceed. Just let me know at a time that is convenient for you.
Regards,
Housekeeping"
The Hubs to me in reply:
"Dear Keeper-of-the House. Stop.
Thank you for your concern. Stop.
We appreciate your feedback and want to address your needs. Stop.
Please feel free to come by our Customer Care department whenever is convenient for you. Stop.
Our Hours of Operation are McRugFootday through Y-day 27:20-18:70 and Neverday 00:00-00:01. Stop.
Also, if you ask our staff, we’d be more than happy to address this concern in person. Stop.
Just make sure that it’s not prior to 10am and negative 54 degrees outside in the tundra! Stop.
I love you allllllwayyyyzz and foreverrrr… Stop.
Also, we’ve recently replaced the Spider Monkeys with lower cost Howler Monkeys. Sure they’re loud, but at least they’re more fun.
I’ll take it all out when I get home from work tonight."
Isn't he charming?
The Hubs has a gut-busting sense of humor. It's one of the reasons I fell in love with him.
I posted this here because I'm thinking maybe someday when I'm a mature wife of 50 years I'll appreciate looking back on a regular, old, run of the mill email between the Hubs and myself. Then I'll probably sit back with a cup of tea and miniature kosher pickles (I have always wanted to like tea and mini-pickles. They are on my bucket list.) and enjoy reflecting on what it was like to be married to the REAL LIVE Mayor of Crazy Town.
I wish I could take credit for the whole "monkeys and lollipop trees/Mayor of Crazy Town" bit, but it's actually a line from a "Scrubs" episode. Someday I'll be that funny off the top of my head. But today is not the day.
Anyway, as I step into the last couple weeks before our three year wedding anniversary, I'm learning that it's important to not take ourselves too seriously in marriage. Ya gotta be able to laugh it off, folks. Ya just gotta. Especially when it comes to whether or not the trash actually makes it to the can.
Hope y'all enjoy a happy afternoon in Crazy Town. =)
Showing posts with label Dear Hubs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dear Hubs. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Dear Hubs: Fickle Puggle edition
New to the blog: a fancy name for emails I send to the Hubs regarding my day and then copy and paste here in hopes of capturing daily drama and occurrences in raw form...now presenting:
Dear Hubs: Fickle Puggle Edition
(*Note: we do not have a backyard, requiring us to put Opie on a leash any time he has to go outside to do his business. He has some bells hanging from the doorknob that he rings with his nose when he has to go out. A decent system when he's quick to get the job done and then high tail it back inside. Not my favorite game when he has a hard time deciding whether he really needs to go or not.)
Dear Hubs:
Wowza. The dog is going crazy. Here is a recap of the last 20 minutes:
a) I take him outside after he rings the bells. His radar is going off, and I am sure he needs to lay some cable.
b) He squats probably 6 or 7 times, each time getting distracted by leaves, grass, squirrels, air, etc. before making any magic happen.
c) I proceed to watch the squat-just-kidding sequence for 15 minutes before giving up and going inside.
d) He runs from the mudroom to the bells. I ignore him. Because we were just out.
e) He rings the bells consecutively 8 times. I wait 5 minutes to be sure he's good and ready.
f) We go outside. I beg him and play the "my aching ribs" card to get him to hurry and finally he gets down to business. There was great rejoicing.
g) We come inside. He rings the bells. Again. And again. And still again.
h) He is still ringing them.
i) Is this for real? Now he is whining. And giving me the puppy eyes at the den doorway.
j) Seriously.
k) I am not taking him out. He is insane. And it is cold. And windy. And I have a headache.
l) He is crying now.
m) And he just rang them again.
n) The stare. He's giving me the stare. Does he not know I'm pregnant and not a big fan of the up and down and out and in game?
o) Cried again. Rang the bells again.
p) I'm going outside.
Bah.
Love,
your wife, who clearly needs to find something better to do with her day than document a long Puggle Potty sequence. Maybe I'll go eat a popsicle and take some Tylenol.
Dear Hubs: Fickle Puggle Edition
(*Note: we do not have a backyard, requiring us to put Opie on a leash any time he has to go outside to do his business. He has some bells hanging from the doorknob that he rings with his nose when he has to go out. A decent system when he's quick to get the job done and then high tail it back inside. Not my favorite game when he has a hard time deciding whether he really needs to go or not.)
Dear Hubs:
Wowza. The dog is going crazy. Here is a recap of the last 20 minutes:
a) I take him outside after he rings the bells. His radar is going off, and I am sure he needs to lay some cable.
b) He squats probably 6 or 7 times, each time getting distracted by leaves, grass, squirrels, air, etc. before making any magic happen.
c) I proceed to watch the squat-just-kidding sequence for 15 minutes before giving up and going inside.
d) He runs from the mudroom to the bells. I ignore him. Because we were just out.
e) He rings the bells consecutively 8 times. I wait 5 minutes to be sure he's good and ready.
f) We go outside. I beg him and play the "my aching ribs" card to get him to hurry and finally he gets down to business. There was great rejoicing.
g) We come inside. He rings the bells. Again. And again. And still again.
h) He is still ringing them.
i) Is this for real? Now he is whining. And giving me the puppy eyes at the den doorway.
j) Seriously.
k) I am not taking him out. He is insane. And it is cold. And windy. And I have a headache.
l) He is crying now.
m) And he just rang them again.
n) The stare. He's giving me the stare. Does he not know I'm pregnant and not a big fan of the up and down and out and in game?
o) Cried again. Rang the bells again.
p) I'm going outside.
Bah.
Love,
your wife, who clearly needs to find something better to do with her day than document a long Puggle Potty sequence. Maybe I'll go eat a popsicle and take some Tylenol.
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